The Sound of Silence
by Miah-Arthur
Summary: Lucifer knew he should speak, that he should offer more than this silent show of loyalty, but his voice remained lost among the multitudes as Amenadiel walked away.


Notes: Thank you to my betas Matchstick_Dolly and Obliobla. This is for Penelope97 ( blog/penelope97)

The Sound of Silence

By

Miah . Arthur

Lucifer perched on the corner of the car, staring at the bloody sheet covering the boy's body. He'd been so wrapped up in his self-serving, egotistical, vainglorious drama with Eve that it hadn't even registered with him that Amenadiel had taken over a favor so delicate, and another innocent lay dead. An innocent Amenadiel had grown to love. He may as well have plunged the knife into the boy's chest by his own hand.

Amenadiel arrived.

The righteous fury emanating from his brother rivaled that of his siblings' when his rebellion was subdued. Pride swelled within him as his brother reclaimed the mantle of avenging angel. Lucifer said the only words his brother needed from him: "I'll drive." Those vile miscreants deserved to be smote by the first among God's warriors.

Caleb's killers deserved it, but how much more so did the Evil One, the Poison of God, the twisted serpent lying in wait to kill, maim, and ravage, deserve to be destroyed? How easy would it be to shift that smiting onto himself after Amenadiel had finished with the human villains of the play?

Lucifer peered at Amenadiel. Grief flowed through him almost equal to the rage, and Lucifer remembered how little right he had to push in this. The person responsible for the death of this innocent—of a child—didn't get to indulge in the self-flagellation that would be pushing Amenadiel into giving him a small portion of what he deserved.

He should speak. He should offer more than this silent show of loyalty, but his own voice remained lost among the multitudes, unable to form words.

They stalked toward the men, ignoring the bleating of excuses as they approached. Amenadiel laid the one man stupid enough to approach out with a punch he would likely be feeling for the rest of his life. Lucifer let hellfire burn in his eyes to corral the rest as Amenadiel meted out righteous judgment.

Only he didn't.

Lucifer turned in surprise at the sudden silence behind him. Grief and burgeoning humanity had won the battle within Amenadiel. The walk back to the car remained as silent as the rest of this had been, but it was now laden with emotion Lucifer didn't fully understand.

He froze, his hand on the door handle, as Amenadiel spoke to him for the first time since he directed them to the address.

"They've lost themselves." He shook his head. "Earth is no place to raise my son."

Amenadiel diminished before Lucifer's eyes, shrank from angel to human, and still Lucifer had no words of comfort for his brother. He _could_ tell him he'd seen the myriad ways humans hurt themselves and each other, but that he'd also seen the good in humanity and that humans were worth the turmoil and pain to experience the good. He could, but it would reek of empty platitudes they were far too old to indulge in or tolerate.

Lucifer let Amenadiel walk away into the night without a word.

_Your fault._

He had the ken of humans that his brother did not. He should run after Amenadiel, offer comfort, but just as in the car ride over, he failed. The desire to do something—_anything_—throbbed behind his breastbone, but remained trapped. Yet another failure among so, so many.

Lucifer opened the car door after Amenadiel turned a corner. He slid in behind the wheel, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He should have protected the boy. He'd known how dangerous the situation was, and he _could_ have protected him, if he'd thought of others for even a moment. He hadn't though, had he?

Amenadiel had finally made his own human connection, and now…

_You can't even blame Dad._

The concept crystallized all across his psyche at the same time. He controlled his own reality. _Him._ When the games and delusions were stripped away, he owned responsibility for everything. Tonight, and so much more besides. Not Dad. Him. The voices were right. They had always been right.

The drive back to Lux passed by in a haze. He couldn't stand the thought of seeing more of the destruction he had wrought this day, and so he drank in Lux where Eve wasn't. _Coward. _The voices he had forever quelled with the mantra, "Dad did this. Dad is responsible. Dad is the one to blame," swelled in a mighty chorus. _I did this. I am responsible. I am the one to blame. _

The detective's presence cut through the maelstrom. He couldn't hide himself from her any longer either. It was time to be honest. _To take responsibility for his actions._ He wasn't sure who he wanted to be now, what possibilities remained to him, but he knew it was a lie—the worst kind, for he had believed it himself for far too long—that he could be the person she saw.

_No more lies._

He saw her heart breaking. He wanted to hold her, assure her he could become the man she saw. The _angel _she wanted...and deserved.

Instead, he walked away.

He didn't bother with his car. He was the most dangerous monster to have ever walked these streets. Even the dimmest criminal in LA seemed to sense it, for no one approached him. He didn't know how long he walked, lost, drifting in the ocean of voices that belonged to him alone now. It could have been hours. It could have been days, but he found himself walking into Linda's office in the end.

As little as he deserved comfort, he _desired _it, and Linda was his lifeline.


End file.
